


simple

by TheQueenInTheNorth



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 20:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueenInTheNorth/pseuds/TheQueenInTheNorth
Summary: It is quite simple, really: he is a prince and she is there to guard him.Or maybe it's a little less simple than that.





	simple

It is quite simple, really: he is a prince and she is there to guard him.

It’s less simple the better she gets to know him. He is an utter nuisance, lacks the ability to keep his thoughts to himself for even a few minutes, is probably the worst fighter she has ever encountered while being an insufferably brilliant strategist, and has little to no concept of personal space.

As if all that isn’t bad enough already, she likes him.

The realisation comes suddenly, when they’re halfway down the third corridor on the way back to his chambers, his hand still lightly resting on her back, and she doesn’t feel inclined to shrug him off at all. It’s been weeks since she shied away from his casual touches, and even longer since she actually minded.

She almost balks at the thought of it, of the idiocy of liking a noble. Part of her wants to run off before she gets herself any deeper into a mess.

Instead she rolls her eyes at the story he’s telling her and he smiles in return, like he knows she finds his chattering endearing.

She ignores the flutter in her stomach; packs it away with the warmth of his hand radiating through her clothes and the way he can make her laugh far too easily, packs it into a corner of her mind that she refuses to acknowledge.

The corner, in turn, refuses to stay put. It keeps letting bits escape over the next few weeks, skipped heartbeats and hints of blushes and her gaze drawn to his lips far too often.

She sips her wine and listens to him talk and doesn’t question how she’s guarding him by sitting on his couch, sitting closer than she should, their legs touching.

She sets her glass aside, shakes her head when Kasius offers a refill. She’s already feeling buzzed, heady in a way she can only partly blame on the wine, when his hand is on her thigh as if it belongs there and he’s shifting closer and closer.

His gaze dips to her lips, so briefly she might have imagined it. Hers lingers on his longer.

She meets his eyes again and he continues talking. It’s halting and a little bit jumbled. He hasn’t had enough wine to blame it on that, either.

Her eyes drift back to his lips. She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. But everything she carefully packed away is back with a vengeance and demands attention.

“Sinara?”he says, soft and slightly uncertain. His hand is still on her thigh, warm and more familiar than it ever should be.

She closes what little space there is left between them, her lips against his, a light touch, a question. His lips as warm as his hand; her heart is a frantic flutter in her chest.

And then he’s kissing her properly and she’s pulling him closer, and everything is quite simple, really: he is a prince, and she is his guard, and they can be anything else they want to be, too.


End file.
